Part II, Ascent

"God place me in ya armor, I prescribe no partners
I do it for the hood like a parka
And tell my niggas not to shiver
Only time we quiver like a archer is

Cause we only fear God
Know the weapons of the weak
The weakness of the hard
And we will never sleep."
-Lupe Fiasco, The Emperor's Soundtrack

Surprisingly, the harsh climate of Midgaard suited him. The snow toughened him and the high altitude helped build his muscles. Or perhaps, the lack of pressure in a new setting allowed him to flourish. It was clear that his destiny was to be a member of the Red Caste like his brother, his father and his fathers before him. True, in the beginning, his prowess with the sword was beyond miserable. There were even moments where it seemed hopeless that he would ever survive his first battle. But what the boy lacked in natural ability, he made up for in determination. The other boys relied on their superior Torvsland bloodlines to guide them through their training; Aashe worked. Very slowly, he transformed his body and ability from a scrawny weakling into the man everyone thought he would be. His reflexes improved. His aim got better. At tournaments, he placed last; then 10th, then 5th; after a few years of training, he was the undisputed champion of the Red Caste of Midgaard.

Along the way, his demeanor changed. The little odd boy puttering around the streets of Treve disappeared. The red tunic suited him. It changed him; it forced him to grow. When he walked down the street, the men would nod to him and offered a word of appreciation. People noticed him wherever he went. He commanded their respect because of who he was. The crest on front of his tunic never let them, never let him, forget this.

And he respected them. When a low caste woman wandered into the market without a slave or help to carry off her purchases, he would offer a hand. If a man bade him to come into the tavern to listen to a story, he listened. A child never left his house without something in their hands. He never demanded an audience with anyone; they always came to him because he would see them. In the middle of the day, in the middle of the night- it did not matter. The city relied on him and he could not refuse. Who else could resolve a dispute between bakers? When the slaver needed help to train all the new slaves, Aashe would watch them dance and serve. A simple word here and there and they learned. When important foreigners requested a meeting with the city Elders, Aashe always found himself at the meeting. He never said much; after all, he was not an Elder and had nothing to say. But they wanted them there. They trusted him. So he stayed and listened.

Slowly, he became comfortable with his new role in Midgaard. He saw the other men in the city try to create their own destiny. It was the way of the Caste: a game of politics where everyone had to beg, borrow and deal their way to the top. He remembered the lessons from his homeland. In the end, all the maneuvering and manipulation could not escape destiny. What would happen would happen. So he let the community make their demands on him and he tried his best to grow into it. From grunt, to swordsman, to Commander. The transitions were difficult. With the rise in status came the burden of additional responsibility. Life became more complicated.

But as the months went by, he began to enjoy the extra responsibility. True, life was easier back in the days when all he had to worry about was brandishing his sword and fighting. But eventually, his tasks seemed less daunting. He enjoyed the adulation of the people. They loved him and he loved them. The mantle of a responsibility became less a chore than an opportunity: he had a chance to make not only his life better, but his community’s. So he worked hard in his duties. It was his job to protect the city from raiders and marauders. Merchants needed to trust that he and his men could keep the supply routes safe from pirates and thieves. If he failed in his task, Midgaard would collapse. They needed him. So he worked. Responsibility became routine. He could live this life.